


Heartstrings Come Undone

by jerim



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Genji gets beat up, Guilt, Hanzo and Angela take care of him and fight with each other, Possible One-Sided Attraction, Slow Burn, ace hanzo, especially people who saved his bro cough cough, healing arrow, low-key bro bonding maybe, or talk to people, perhaps a tentative friendship is formed?, perhaps they eventually start holding hands?, rarepair, rarest of the pairs, sad tiddy archer doesn't know how to handle his feelings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-27
Updated: 2017-05-23
Packaged: 2018-08-27 07:39:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8392915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jerim/pseuds/jerim
Summary: Hanzo joins Overwatch to reconnect with the brother he destroyed, and inadvertently has to deal with the woman who put him back together.





	1. First Words

**Author's Note:**

> This is a ship fic for the rarest of the pairs. Mercy x Hanzo.

Their first official meeting is on the battlefield, and there’s a tension in the air that can only be held between two people who have known of each other _long_ before they have ever met.

“Mr. Shimada,” she pauses for formalities despite the gunfire whizzing through the air and the smoke clogging their nostrils.  She’s watching him pull his arrow out from the fresh corpse on the ground and he’s wondering if this is what she expected; shedding blood was what tied their paths together and it only seemed fitting that she should run into him when he’s spilling even more of it.

“Dr. Ziegler,” it’s as much a greeting as he can muster; thoughts trained on the scent of battle and he can only take a second to try and analyze her intentions.

“You….have my thanks,” her gratitude is carried on a soft breath. Deftly, she motions towards the body at his feet and only then does he realize who his prey had been aiming for.

“It was foolish to leave yourself so open,” he replies because he has nothing else to say; impromptu lecture hard on the tongue despite the breaking of formalities. “Next time, I suggest you let the shadows be your ally.”

A ghost of a frown; eyes suddenly calculating yet despite the shift in _his_ tone she keeps _hers_ the same. “I shall keep that in mind. Now, if you’ll excuse me…”

Then she’s gone on golden wings and he’s left with a dead body and a multitude of afterthoughts. He can’t understand the sudden apprehension in his chest and his fingers are suddenly twitching towards his bow. He needs to stop thinking. He needs to resume the hunt.

                He needs to drown this sudden low-lying guilt before it pulls him under.


	2. Words Unsaid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hanzo doesn't heed Genji's warning until it's almost too late. Angela keeps to the background.

Hanzo marks his territory in the places where Genji’s not.  He keeps to his corners and skirts his allies like a wolf in the night. In his mind, it’s better that way; the ever-present tension pulling at his throat and he can feel his brother’s presence tagging at his heels. There are things to be said between them but all he has is venom on his lips whenever Genji tries to corner him.

“Dr. Ziegler told me that you saved her life,” Genji’s tone comes neutral; tentative in the way he hopes to engage his brother.

“It was my duty, was it not?” He hates the synthetic edge to his brother’s voice. He hates himself for being the cause of it.

In response, he gets an exasperated sigh. “Why did you join Overwatch, brother? You could have better avoided me if you didn’t accept my invitation,” he gives a soft, sad chuckle.

He doesn’t know how to answer; eyes flickering past his brother’s shoulder to the empty hallway behind them. “My reasons are my own.” A flimsy excuse. “I am aiding your foolish cause, that alone should be enough to please you.”

Genji shakes his head; expression hidden behind his visor yet Hanzo can feel the helpless frustration radiating off him. It’s a feeling they both share yet the archer hasn’t the knowledge on how to surpass it. “I am not pleased. I do not want an asset to the team. I want my brother.”

“-And you are a fool for it.”

“Perhaps I am, but it is something I desire nonetheless. You must forgive yourself, brother. You cannot remain stagnate in your guilt,” he presses. “I am here. You have a second chance. We can fix things before it is too late…”

Hanzo doesn’t answer, instead he brushes his brother aside and lets anger cover his retreat. It’s what he has done time and time before; a fail safe to hastily re-patch whatever cracks Genji puts in him. He cannot crack, for if he is does it is unknown whether he’ll be able to piece himself back together again.

So, he keeps to his own; clinging to the corners and skirting around the edges until he finds out just what Genji means by ‘too late.’

* * *

 

“Genji…?”

The discovery is found on the battlefield where the air is thick and acrid with smoke. Sweat clings to bared skin and he can taste someone else’s blood in his mouth.  Genji’s hand is a cold weight against his own and his vision is filled with spilled fluid and broken wires. His brother is leaving him again and it’s all his fault-

“Mr. Shimada, I need you to stay calm,” and there were those crystal blue eyes again. Whatever dark ironies to be found in such a situation, Dr. Ziegler seemed to ignore them. For all their sake. “He’s still alive. We just need to stabilize him enough to be moved. Mr. Shimada?”

There’s a bloodied hand on his arm, pulling him back into focus.

“I need your help. Please. Can we work together on this?”

There was desperation to her trust, but Hanzo took note of it all the same. “…I am at your service.”

The relief in her smile makes his brother’s body feel all that heavier in his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to some very nice and encouraging comments I have decided to update! My original plan for this was a set of loosely connected drabbles but I decided to add more of an over arching story to better tie Hanzo and Mercy's interactions together. I also tried to make it a bit longer. Feel free to comment and let me know what you think, especially if you have any ideas on how to make this story better! thank you!


	3. In the Dark of the Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The author attempts to write fluff. It goes as well as expected. Angela literally runs into Hanzo. They...bond?

Above all things, Angela Ziegler is a professional. She sticks to her duty until duty becomes dust floating in the dim light of her desk lamp.  Midnight finds most Overwatch agents sleeping but for Angela it allows her a quiet time to slowly fracture over her paper work.

_Update Winston on the new improvements to her caduceus staff. Check on Genji. File her report on the latest mission. Run through those 20+ schematics for new medical gear while cross referencing the old research that Tracer uncovered from her latest scouting mission. Keep thinking. Keep working._ If she kept her mind spinning at a certain velocity perhaps she could overcome her body’s entropy and skip sleeping entirely…

The ruination of her hypothesis comes with the subtle blurring of her eyes; vision too tired to properly sight the words and soon everything is mixing into an aggravating haze. _Irritating._ More caffeine is needed. She had more work to do. 

The desk chair creaks as she stands and suddenly she’s wondering if the room had always looked so fuzzy. There’s a pain gnawing at the forefront of her head and some desperate, rebellious thought questions the wisdom in being awake for almost forty-two hours. Being the logical medical professional that she is, she ignores it.

Things shift, and she finds herself moving through the shadows of the base’s hallway. Where her thoughts fail her, instinct is enough to motivate her legs to keep moving. She just needs a coffee. Maybe two or five. Anything to keep herself in the safety of consciousness because in sleep there is nothing to keep the mistakes she buried from rising from the depths and strangling her.

Things shift again, but this time in the wrong direction. Shadows are moving and she’s losing herself on the edge of her breath. Fatigue has snagged her ankles. She’s falling. Then there’s nothing.

“….Dr. Ziegler?”

_Something akin to a dark spice. Maybe with a hint of sweat._ The scent is an off-brand of familiar and she’s wondering where she’d encountered it before. _Soft._ There’s fabric against her cheek and her bruised thoughts are begging her to embrace it and let oblivion claim her once again.

“Dr. Ziegler.” The voice is worn with trepidation, like an animal caught in a trap.

“…hm?” Recognition filters through her daze, and suddenly she’s realizing that the sturdy body she’s pressed against belongs to Hanzo Shimada. The arms that ripped the life from his brother are the same ones keeping her from the floor, though by the way he’s holding her the floor might have provided a warmer welcome.

“H-Han-…Mr. Shimada?” No one should be up at this hour. She should have been able to shatter across the floor in peace, she should have been able to stitch herself back together in solitude before the lights came on and anyone noticed her cracks. But no, there had to be a witness to her shame. “…what are you doing here? It is so late….”

He doesn’t answer at first, and she can feel the tightening of his jaw above her head as he fingers dig slightly into the back of her work shirt. She wonders why he doesn’t just drop her, if he is so uncomfortable…

“It…matters not.” Whatever defenses she unconsciously broke are quickly being reconstructed, and Angela suddenly finds his weight shifting. “…Can you stand?”

“Y-yes, of course. My apologies, I did not-“ her attempts to diffuse the awkward situation fizzled into nothing; legs buckling as she once again found her nose in his shirt. _That smell again_. Thoughts vanishing into a sleep-deprived void and she was desperate to latch onto something. Anything. “Have you been training, Mr. Shimada? At this hour?”

This time he followed her to the ground, gently settling her against the wall. There was precision to his efforts, he moved her like she had seen him move bodies on the battlefield. Silent, efficient. No jostling. He was an assassin after all. A killer.

“My time is my own, is it not? I shall use it how I see fit…” his eyes catch onto hers through the gloom, and even in the darkness she can see them spark. “Though I did not expect to spend it catching fainting doctors in the halls.”   

She’s tired. Too tired play the ever polite doctor and there’s no one to see her drop her façade and smash it across his face. “Perhaps I _am_ overworked. A doctor’s job is a busy one. I have many patients. Like _your brother,_ for instance.”

Hanzo stiffens visibly. They’re both teetering on the edge of something dark, and it’s almost a dare to see who pushes who over the edge first. “What are you implying?” He knows. They both know.

“It has been two days, Mr. Shimada, and you have not once gone in to see him, despite his requests for you,” her fingers press against the cold floor, desperate for something to ground her slipping thoughts on. “I remember you promising your services to me, yes? Are you not a man of honor?”

Silence. She can see how he stiffens. “I do not have medical expertise. I cannot help him.”

“Being there is enough, or do you need me to convince you through a dissertation on what emotional support is?”

“That…is not needed.”

“Then what is keeping you from entering that room, Mr. Shimada?”

“You know why,” his answer comes suddenly sharp, seething in the way he’s suddenly cornered. “Yet it is pathetic of you to pretend not to.”

This was a mistake. A long drawn sigh escapes her lips as she lets her head knock against the wall. The moment stretches out between them in tense aggravation as Hanzo broods in angered silence and Angela nurses the acidic feeling in her chest.

Eventually, something breaks. “…I suppose I _must_ thank you for catching me.” Even to a fault, Angela is polite and sometimes she really hates herself for it.

“If you are unwell, you should not be wandering the halls by yourself,” he states in way that implies he thinks she should know better. She should, but she won’t admit it. At least not to _him_.  “Unless it was a ruse to guilt me into listening to you.”  

“hm, would it have worked?” Things were beginning to feel all too heavy, and the longer Angela sat the more her body desired to just melt into the floor and become one with the universe.

“No, I am not susceptible to such amateur trickery.”

And for some reason a soft chuckle escapes her throat. Perhaps it is too early in the morning, and perhaps Hanzo’s stony attitude has finally caused her to give up. “I shall take note of that. Now, I just need to….” Her body fails her as she tries to get up, and with a low sense of apprehension she notes the way Hanzo watches her. Like a wolf appraising a wounded fawn.

“You seem very unwell, Dr. Ziegler,” he rumbles, sounding less than pleased. “I think you require rest.”

“I assure you, I’m fine-“ her rebuttal dies with a murmur as the hall begins to tilt. Oh no. “….or maybe…I should take a short break….”

“…Perhaps it would be best that I escort you back. It would be dishonorable of me to do otherwise.”

She replies to him, yet she can’t remember the words that leave her mouth. Her body embraces the lower levels of functioning as strong arms enfold her once again and scoop her up. _He must hate this,_ she thinks. H _e can only be doing this because he’s obligated to._

He’s asking her a question by the low rumble she can hear in his chest, but her capacity to process voice has gone out the window and she is slipping further and further away.

It’s a good thing that she’s falling asleep, otherwise she would have been forced to face the truth that she might have actually felt safe in his arms.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hanzo was asking her where her room was, but when she didn't answer he just set her on a couch somewhere than booked it back to his angst corner. :P 
> 
> ALso, Im am terribly sorry for such a slow update! Ahhh this fic isn't dead! Not yet! this chapter is longer than the others. I'm not sure Im too happy with how I write Angela, as my strength lies in writing Hanzoo. Let me know what you think!


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